I've lost faith in hopelesssness, the stress of not knowing has given way to no longer doubting, or spouting disbelief, chief resident skeptic has been evicted.
Twisting dreams into reality, soultorq, worked in the past, now casts on ankles to allow healing while stealing glances at reforming bones from stones too heavy to lift, causing rifts in my otherwise strong calcium deposits.
there are most things that i don't get while the others are clear as glass. past tense with a sense of memory caught in the middle of an oasis, no basis for escape off my island of complacency albeit things drift on the shore to alleviate my boredom, the rain still comes.
portfolio and thoughts from a messenger in an urban context
